Drabboyle
by goblet-aWoof
Summary: Draco learns the importance of friendship and how it shouldn't ever waver, even when your Dad's rlly rude and a big let down...


**A/N+Disclaimer: Hey, bbys. Nothing Harry Potter belongs to me. This was written for round 6 season 4 of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition. Please leave a review to help me out and improve my writing so that I can make my stories better for the few that read them. Thanks for the continued support! Enjoy! -Woofie**

 **Prompt:**

 **I have chosen for a dark character demonstrating the VIRTUE OF HUMILITY**

 **Optional [Beater] Prompts:**

 **11\. (word) risk**

 **14\. (quote) 'The creation of a thousand forests is one acorn.' - Ralph Waldo Emerson**

Draco looked down at his chubby, adolescent fingers with curiosity. They were so small and unscathed; palms soft and intact, unlike his father's. Lucius's hands held years and years of marks and countless blemishes. You could see the places where he clenched his fist and his nails dug into the flesh of his palms as well as the noticeable marks made from holding his wand too tightly in fear and cowardliness of the Dark Lord and his presence. Nevertheless, Draco Malfoy looked up to his father as if he ruled the world.

"Come here, my son," Lucius said to him. "You see these lines? These scars? They are but a useless mark of the past, not a reminder for the future, and don't you let anyone tell you different. You can be pushed around and allow yourself to be taken advantage of, or you can take advantage of those who allow it. You can do so much with the family name. Take control, and you can have control over the vulnerable. After all, the creation of a thousand forests is one acorn."

Draco was young - seven at most - but he still took these words into careful consideration. He nodded eagerly and his father lightly pushed him off of his lap and stood with indifference.

"Now go and play with Vincent and Gregory. They should be waiting outside." Lucius said and stalked off quickly, his thin, light hair tossing behind him. The serious mood was immediately abolished at the thought of Draco's hilariously doltish buddies and he dashed to the front door as fast as his rotund legs would carry him in anticipation of seeing Crabbe and Goyle.

Soon, he was bursting through the door and trapping Goyle in a headlock and ruffling Crabbe's hair teasingly. It eventually turned into a full-out wrestle between the three boys, and they were left roughly laughing until their sides hurt and they could laugh no more. Red-faced and bubbly, Draco rolled over and tousled Goyle's hair."Now what?" he asked enthusiastically. Suddenly, he thought back to his father's words:

 _"Take control, and you can have control over the vulnerable."_

Why should he be asking Crabbe and Goyle what to do? Shouldn't _he_ be telling _them_ what to do? Where to go? He dropped his grin and stood, towering over the two on the ground, and began walking down the road. Looking over his shoulder nonchalantly, he said, "Get up." Crabbe and Goyle stood. Draco gave a haughty grin before walking down the road in a newfound swagger. Now, he felt like he controlled it all, and although he knew the power was rushing to his head, he didn't care. Let his head get as big as it could be, but as long as he had his power, he'd be fine. It was worth the risk anyways.

_0_

Years passed, and Draco's head seemed to get impossibly bigger as well as his reputation. He was feared by most, and everyone wanted his fabulous hair. Hogwarts was the perfect place to get more power, more control, and envy from those with less importance. But _Potter_ just had to come in and steal everything from him.

What was the big deal about the half-blood anyway? He didn't do anything but live and get some stupid scar. All of Draco's family were pure-bloods. Shouldn't that be something more impressive than having a filthy mudblood of a mother? He'd offered Potter advice as his father had. He would have allowed him to become a part of his powerful bracket, but the Gryffindor had refused. He had refused Draco Malfoy. From that moment, Draco decided it was absolutely necessary to make Harry Potter's life a living hell. Seeing the anger and confusion cloud in the boy's emerald eyes was something Draco practically lived to see.

_0_

Throughout the years, Draco just got worse and worse, allowing himself to get completely out of control with his behavior against The Boy Who Lived. So much that he allowed that aggressiveness to impact on the ones who had gone through it all with Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle. He became distant from the once childhood besties, and the only time they laughed together was in the physical pain and misery of others - mostly Potter.

Instead of best friends, they were now his henchmen. When an insult came from Draco, they were right there ready to obnoxiously guffaw. But every now and then, Draco would have flashes of wrestling and laughing with the two and a smile would spread across his features, only to be quickly abolished out of remembrance…

 _"You can be pushed around and allow yourself to be taken advantage of, or you can take advantage of those who allow it."_

It was okay to order around Crabbe and Goyle - his father had said so himself.

_0_

It was for this reason that Draco allowed himself to taunt Potter about the death of Diggory. Even Crabbe and Goyle seemed a bit skeptical of how far he was taking it, but they allowed him to continue.

"Get out," Harry said angrily.

How dare this filthy half-blood command Draco and friends to leave? Draco was angry.

"You've picked the losing side, Potter! I warned you! I told you you ought to choose your company more carefully, remember? When we met on the train, first day at Hogwarts? I told you not to hang around with riffraff like this!" Draco yelled, glaring at Ron and Hermione. "Too late now, Potter! They'll be the first to go, now the Dark Lord's back! Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers first! Well - second - Diggory was the f -" Draco had intentions of insulting the deceased Hufflepuff when flashes of color flew through the air. Multiple spells hit Crabbe and Goyle first, and Draco felt spells pelt him as well, but all sense of being left him as he watched his friends drop to the ground. He made a step to help them when another spell hit him and he fell unconscious.

_0_

When Draco awoke, he was being shaken awake by Goyle, who had a swollen face and boils all over his arms. Nevertheless, Draco launched himself into his arms. "Goyle! You - you're alive!" Draco said, tearing up.

"Don't go crying to me you bloody baby," Goyle replied haughtily, seeming surprised. Draco laughed and punched his back in the embrace.

"Where's Crabbe?" Draco asked suddenly, looking around frantically and spotting him on the floor with ominous tentacles scattered on his face.

"Oh my, Crabbe!" Draco rushed over. He leaned down to examine the boy; fortunately, he was still breathing. He continued to look at Crabbe until a voice startled him.

"Leaning down for a kiss? At least ask me out first, Malfoy!"

Draco immediately relaxed and laughed. Crabbe was looking up at Draco cockily, obviously proud of his little joke.

Draco helped Crabbe up and called Goyle over to help him. Crabbe couldn't seem to stand on his own accord. As they slowly walked toward their compartment, they laughed.

If Draco could have these little moments that made him happier than teasing ever could - even if he ended up with a limp and antlers - he knew that regardless of what his father had said, it'd be worth the risk.

 **~fin~**

 **Thanks mom for making me stop procrastinating by taking my phone away. Although you interrupted my reading of Troyler smu- *COUGHCOUGH* I think I have something stuck in my throat *Cough* *anonymous object flies out of mouth and into the sky* Oh it was my dignity. BYE DIGNITY!**


End file.
